


(Not More Than) I Missed You

by JemTheKingOfSass



Category: Free!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-16 13:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14812118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemTheKingOfSass/pseuds/JemTheKingOfSass
Summary: Rin melts into the hug, thankful to be back after a long, grueling week of competition, press conferences, and travel. “I missed you.”“Not more than I missed you.” Makoto breathes a kiss into his hair, which refills Rin with everything the past week has drained out of him.There is no suitable reply to the unspoken question, so Makoto holds his tongue. He has his reasons for radio silence with his boyfriend, and he doesn’t care to hear how supportive, how generous, how loving Haru believes Rin to be. The fact of the matter stands that Rin is not present in Makoto’s daily life and this is a prime example of that void.





	(Not More Than) I Missed You

**Author's Note:**

> An enormous thank you to [Lin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinary) (extraordinary) for the beta! Be grateful to her for the concept of the very last scene, I know I am! <333
> 
> I wanted to read aged-up/non-Future Fish MR angst and couldn't really find anything so here we are.
> 
>  

 

**

 

_“I’m home!” Rin calls out as he steps into the house._

_“Welcome back,” replies Makoto, moving into the entryway to embrace his partner._

_He melts into the hug, thankful to be back after a long, grueling week of competition, press conferences, and travel. “I missed you.”_

_“Not more than I missed you.” Makoto breathes a kiss into his hair, which refills Rin with everything the past week has drained out of him. As his career wanes, he finds himself emptier after each international meet, wanting to begin the next phase of his life, stop leaving Makoto behind as he chases some fleeting glory and a receding dream. He’s long ago done what he set out to do, yet stubbornly clings to swimming until the Olympics arrive in Japan. Soon. The time to stop moving is rapidly approaching and Rin yearns for retirement despite a few lingering doubts. What does life look like after the training and meets are finished, who is he if he’s not swimming, what’s his worth when he’s not setting records or winning medals? He expects to fade into oblivion on the international sports stage, but hopes his importance remains permanent elsewhere._

_“I love you, Makoto.”_

_“Not more than I love you, Rin.”_

 

**

 

Makoto listens to the final chorus of farewells from his students, snapping his messenger bag shut with the excitement that only a Friday afternoon brings. He used to think teachers got bored and lonely on weekends and term breaks, the students usurping all the joy and pending fun for themselves, but now he knows better. The anticipation of days off from teaching puts that feeling from his ancient student days to shame. Tonight is the night for his weekly cooking lesson at his best friend’s house, one of his favorite rituals when Haru is back home. Tomorrow is a date that has been on the calendar for months, with Rin and Haru both being in town after what feels like a particularly long indoor swim season, and only one remaining long trip out of the country over the next few months. 

On Saturday, Makoto and Rin are joining Haru and Sousuke for another one of their routines as a foursome, traditions which have dwindled over the course of their twenties from predictable monthly occurrences to only a couple of times a year, and require copious amounts of intricate schedule coordination. Yet Makoto awaits these dates with the fervor of a toddler with an upcoming birthday. He is the one with the most open calendar who just needs to wait for the other three, with their varying swim demands pulling them in a variety of directions, to have a Saturday they can devote to this frivolity. If he recalls correctly, it is Sousuke’s turn to choose their breakfast destination, which means it’s Rin’s turn to choose the extracurricular activity. Last time, which was almost a year ago at this point, Makoto chose a French-inspired bakery for breakfast, much to the chagrin of his boyfriend who complained far too long about the lack of savory options. Having his turn for pick of destinations, Haru had decided on Tokyo Summerland for a day of water slides, lazy rivers, and wave pools, which made them all feel about twelve years old again and it was glorious.

Makoto ardently supports Rin and Haru in their careers and always has, but, if being truthful, is quite pleased they are both nearing the end. Haru is already making the transition, despite joining Rin in working to stay on the national team for one more Olympic run on home soil, he is already slowing down to focus more on his art and filling commissions and less on his times and travels. Makoto sees much more of his best friend these days, which means he sees a little less of Sousuke, but they are so content that he cannot begrudge them any of their time together, and when Rin is on the road, they include him in practically everything but bedroom activities. He is only a little bit envious of Sousuke resuming a mostly-normal life with his partner. Just a little.

After a train ride that feels too slow, and a walk to their building that seems to take too long, Makoto opens the door and quietly announces his arrival, but is greeted with silence and the too-typical sight of an empty flat. Rin must be out, probably running, Makoto thinks, with the smallest twinge of disappointment; being welcomed home is a rare occurrence these days. Rin has only been back in the country for a week and it’s not enough. Makoto craves the light that Rin brings to his life like he needs the air that surrounds him, although the air never leaves for business on a regular basis.

Life with Rin is almost everything Makoto expected it to be when they finally confessed to each other after years spent separated at university, divided by an ocean and unrealized feelings, Makoto gradually discovering the path he was supposed to be on, Rin blazing his own. They each searched sporadically for love and companionship, but Makoto certainly never found anyone who could compare to the one person he never knew he was comparing them to. Rin has always seen him, heard him, trusted him, pushed him, only sometimes at too fast a pace for Makoto to appreciate, and no matter how much time they spend apart, Rin never stops noticing him. He isn’t always sure why, but Rin loves him, and Makoto’s moments of doubt have decreased as the years they’ve been committed to each other have increased. Rin has slowly chipped away at Makoto’s self-doubts and insecurities with unwavering loyalty, with soft smiles and unrestrained gestures solely for him, with lists of teaching openings after he is downsized from his first school appointment, with moments of weakness shown only to Makoto. What he never anticipated were the long stretches of loneliness, touch starvation, and electronic communication, but it’s fine and they make it work. At the end of the day, he is enough for Rin and Rin is enough for him. 

The door opens behind him and sweaty arms encircle his waist, as he feels a damp forehead press against the back of his neck. 

“Gross, Rin,” chuckles Makoto, even though he doesn’t mind nearly as much as his words imply, which is obvious to Rin since he then drags his whole forehead along Makoto’s hairline, trying to wipe off all his perspiration. “Gah! I’m not your towel!”

Rin shakes with silent laughter, Makoto sees, as he spins around to hoist Rin up and relocate him to the bathroom. His boyfriend might be an Olympian, but Makoto maintains his physique exactly for necessary retribution moments such as these. 

Rin smacks a palm down on Makoto’s broad shoulder, giggling like his sister Gou. “Put me down, grandpa! You’re too old for this shit. You’re gonna break a hip!”

“Spoken from your juvenile age of twenty-eight years and four months, as opposed to twenty-eight years and seven months?” Makoto jokes, their three month difference in age a constant source of glee for Rin as they get older and have no more milestone ages they particularly look forward to reaching in front of them.

Rin grins his wide, toothy, uninhibited smile. “You got it, old man. Never forget.” Makoto deposits the redhead carefully on the tiled floor by the shower. “Hey, is there room for me at the Nanazaki household tonight? Or are you looking forward to some Haru time?”

Makoto shakes his head so fast, he gets a crick in his neck. “Come with me, I’m sure you want to see Sousuke, although you know he hates it when you call them the Nanazakis.”

“Tch. When has Sousuke’s annoyance ever stopped me? He wants to refer to themselves as the Yamase household, he can go right ahead.” Rin cranks the knob all the way to the left and waits for the near-boiling temperature he prefers. “I want to see you and you’re going to be there, so that’s where I want to be.”

A surge of affection washes over him; comments like that, scattered so casually like breadcrumbs, never fail to stutter Makoto’s heartbeat, and drive him to hug Rin so hard and so thoroughly that just maybe he won’t be able to escape his arms and ever board another airplane. “I want to be with you too, Rin. I love my cooking lessons, and I love time with Haru, and I’m getting so much better! But you and I don’t ever have enough time together.” 

“Soon Makoto, soon. I’ll be around so much in a couple years you won’t want me around anymore. I’ll drive you crazy,” promises Rin, as he hooks a finger in one of Makoto’s belt loops and reaches his other hand towards the button on his pants. “Join me in the shower, get me all clean. If we’re good, we can be late for your cooking class.”

Makoto growls, he misses intimacy with Rin almost as much as he misses everything else about Rin. “If I’m joining you, I don’t want to make you clean, I want to make you dirty.”

“Don’t tease. Make me filthy.” Rin tugs Makoto closer and leans in to press a kiss against his mouth, hot breath sending a shiver down his spine and spike of pleasure to his groin. “Let's be really _really_ late.”

 

**

 

On Saturday morning, the four men gather at Suji’s, a diner within walking distance of Tokyo Tower, Sousuke’s choice for a Western-style breakfast he got hooked on during a visit to Australia, a fact that never fails to amuse Makoto, mystify Haru, and irritate Rin. 

“How did you not get obsessed with Australian dishes? There’s such good food there, especially in Sydney. How did you fall in love with American fare?” Rin rants, as he is prone to do, especially when comfortably surrounded by his best friends. 

Sousuke scoffs in disbelief. “Please. Every time we’re here, you rave about the steak and eggs, the bottomless coffee, and the fact that it forces Makoto to keep up with his English.”

“Hey,” retorts Makoto. “I’m just fine at English now. I don’t need a menu to keep up my skills.”

Haru raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t I have to translate that poem your student wrote for you the other day?” 

Makoto squeaks in indignation. “That was one time, Haru!”

Sousuke and Rin are both bent over cackling, Rin’s forehead laying against the table, Haru’s eyes are suspiciously mischievous looking, and Makoto’s chest expands at how perfect this is, how much he wants this to be the norm in their lives, like it had been briefly when Rin first returned to Japan and inserted himself seamlessly into Makoto’s life like he’d always starred in the leading role of boyfriend. If Makoto had to choose his happy place, it might be in this American diner, drinking coffee, and preparing for the unveiling of Rin’s activity.

Breakfast continues much the way it began, more laughing than eating, although they all eventually wolf down their omelets and bacon and toast. Makoto moans almost sensually over how good the blueberry pancakes are, and thinks this is the dish that Haru must teach him how to make next Friday. He catches Rin’s eye, his partner’s eyebrow raised, lips slightly parted, completely entranced. Heat floods Makoto’s face; no matter how many years they are together, he thinks he will always get slightly flustered when Rin is completely focused on him. He wonders for a moment if Rin will ever tire of gazing at him, sharing inside jokes with just a glance and an eyebrow lift, leaving group fun behind to retire for the evening, going home to gossip about their ridiculous friends and fall asleep next to one another. The brief doubt passes as he smiles back at Rin and shrugs, safe in the knowledge he grasps at a fundamental level, this is the exact future Rin wants as much as he does, both already wishing it was their reality in the present.

“Rin,” begins Haru, setting down his fork and placing his napkin on his plate. “What are we doing next?” Sousuke and Makoto swivel their heads towards their friend, eagerly awaiting the unveiling of the day’s plans. 

Rin smirks and tilts his head, almost as if he’s still contemplating what he wants to do. He fools no one at the table, of all of them, he’s the most likely to have an elaborate scheme that has been planned since the instant last year’s activities reached their conclusion. “Okay, so I want to go to bowling and sing karaoke at EST.”

“That’s it?” Sousuke inquires, as he glances across the table at Makoto and Haru. “I expected something downright crazy.” Haru nods, and Makoto can’t help but agree and be a little surprised at the simplicity of the request.

Rin scowls and shrugs a shoulder. “You guys had some great stories from college, I swear they were always about either bowling or karaoke. I know we’re a bit older now but I was hoping to join you guys for once.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for some reaction, anything from gentle ribbing to full blown mockery is possible with a group of friends that have as much history as they do, Makoto realizes. He swoops in rescue Rin.

“We haven’t done that in ages! It’ll make me feel more like I’m pushing twenty than thirty, which is not a bad thing for any of us,” he declares, his teacher tone leaving no room for arguments.

Sousuke smirks at Haru. “Heh. Some of us are closer than others.” The response is an eye roll from Haru and a snicker from Rin, effectively diffusing any awkwardness that may or may not have sprung up.

They drain their coffees, settle the bill, take the train from Minato to Shibuya, and amble their way to EST, shoving and teasing each other like the boys they still are in their minds. The rest of the afternoon and early evening is spent exploring everything the gaming center has to offer, including glow-in-dark-bowling as specifically requested. At one point Sousuke gets lost in the billiard hall when Rin and Haru get distracted by Gauntlet, competing to see who can kill more enemies and loot more treasure, which leaves Makoto to guide him back through a phone call.

Their last pit stop is the karaoke center on the eighth floor. The drinks begin to flow, songs start being sung, and Makoto has the time of his life. They are in a private room and Rin bounds up to the small stage to kick-off the karaoke. Before Makoto can even ponder what song he will select, he hears Rin’s tenor belting out lyrics he has to translate in his head. 

 

_Say, go through the darkest of days,_  
_Heaven's a heartbreak away._  
_Never let you go, never let me down._

_Oh, it's been a hell of a ride,_  
_Driving the edge of a knife,_  
_Never let you go, never let me down._

_Don't fall asleep_  
_At the wheel, we've got a million miles ahead of us._  
_Miles ahead of us._

_All that we need,_  
_Is a rude awakening to know we're good enough._  
_Know we're good enough._

_Don't you give up, I won't give up,_  
_Let me love you, Let me love you._

 

After Rin is done singing to Makoto, which is how he feels even if that wasn’t the intention, Haru pushes him up towards the stage. “You need to answer that, Makoto.”

He stumbles up on stage, feeling light-headed for reasons having nothing to do with the gin and tonic he drank. He scrolls through the options, not sure how to best respond. He normally does rock songs, but this time definitely wants something romantic. He doesn’t want Rin to be left with any doubt about his meaning. Despite his protests before, and working extremely hard to become fluent, English is still not his strongest area when it comes to speed translating. His eyes light upon a few beautiful phrases, and he is fairly certain this one fits the bill for the message he wants to convey.

 

_I been trying to do it right,_  
_I been living a lonely life._  
_I been sleeping here instead,_  
_I been sleeping in my bed,_  
_Sleeping in my bed,_

_I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart._  
_I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweet._

_Love we, need it now,_  
_Let's hope, for some,_  
_'Cause oh, we're bleeding out._

_I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart._  
_I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweet._

 

Rin stares at him, Makoto feels stripped naked with the strength of his look. A flicker of doubt, maybe guilt, passes over his partner’s face, but it’s gone before it even really registers within him. He strides over to peck a quick kiss on Rin’s lips and slides into the seat next to him.

“Do you like that song, Makoto?” Rin mutters, as he turns to him.

“I was trying to find one with the right lyrics,” he responds, tucking his head into the crook of Rin’s shoulder, while noticing that Sousuke gazes at them with a mildly puzzled look on his face. Rin’s shoulder is tighter than it should be after a day of relaxing, and Makoto hopes the day has lived up to his nostalgic expectations. From the safety of Rin’s neck, he glances over at Haru, who looks back with a slight frown before rising from his seat.

Haru takes over the microphone and sings “Kawa no Nagare no Yō ni” in his crystal clear voice, which appears to ease Rin’s tension, as he snorts and comments on the fact that even during karaoke Haru can’t help but make love to the water. Sousuke tosses him an attempt at a dirty glare but can’t hold it as he bursts out laughing. Makoto wants to defend his best friend, but he is ridiculous about water, so even Makoto snickers at his expense. Haru carries on despite the ruckus, and the other three cannot help but sing along to this classic karaoke choice.

The evening wraps up after a few more rounds of karaoke and liquor, no more of Rin’s songs hinting at romance, which allows Makoto the unsentimental freedom to rasp his heart out on stage, including a rock and rap duet with Sousuke, showcasing both their musical interests, a song wondering what everyone is waiting for and if they want more. _Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface. I don't know what you're expecting of me, put under the pressure of walking in your shoes_. Makoto senses the lyrics as he sings them, they hit him in way he can't quite put his finger on, some slight unnamed discontent thrumming just under his skin, just out of reach.

At Shibuya Station, they all board the Ginza line towards the eastern wards. Rin sits next to Sousuke on the first leg, chattering, asking about his high school swim team and how they are shaping up for next season. Makoto is content to sit next to Haru, listening to the excitable babble of his boyfriend’s voice and the low rumble of his friend’s responses. They part ways at Shimbashi Station, Haru and Sousuke taking the Yokosuka line to carry on towards Edogawa, while Makoto and Rin need to transfer to the Tozai line towards their home in Kōtō. As they are moving away, Haru throws one last look at Rin, before turning to Makoto and opening his mouth as though to say something, but he hesitates and simply says goodbye again before walking away. 

Makoto stands next to a quiet and contemplative Rin, seeming to have nothing left to say after their friends walk away, and nudges his shoulder with his own. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hmm?” Rin mumbles, head fixed in the direction of the oncoming train. 

Makoto bumps him again playfully. “Did the day live up to your collegiate dreams of an arcade night out? I don’t think we did that as often as you might think. None of us had enough money or time to make it a regular occurrence.”

Rin doesn’t answer as the warning bell signals the train’s impending arrival just before it whooshes to a stop before them and they board to go home. Rin stands and white knuckles the strap, even though there are actually quite a few seats available. Makoto watches him glare at the floor, swaying with the train’s movement, all the way until their stop. It’s a silent walk home with no physical contact, which is unusual for them, as both Makoto and Rin enjoy touch as a way to connect to each other, ground each other, remind themselves that they are present and accounted for and in love with one another.

As Rin is digging for his keys, jaw clenched, mouth set in a thin line, shoulders rigid with tension, Makoto is very aware something is bothering Rin, but unsure if he’s swallowing it down to bury it deep within him to fester or is merely waiting for the privacy found only behind their closed front door. Shoes are barely off when Rin finds his voice. “Are you frustrated that I’m still swimming and traveling so much?”

Makoto is floored but can answer somewhat honestly. “No Rin! I’m so proud of your career and I support it, if it’s what you want. Of course I wish you were around more, but swimming is what you do, it’s who you are, who you’ve always been, and that’s fine.”

Rin still has doubt on his face but offers a thin smile. “That’s the party line isn’t it?” He clasps Makoto’s hands in his warm, firm grip. “You would tell me, if something’s changed? If you’re done with this lifestyle and how it forces us to be apart more than we’re together, you’d tell me if you wanted more? Wanted more from me?”

“Of course Rin. But it’s your career and your decision. What you think is what matters,” argues Makoto weakly, feeling as Rin’s hands tighten their hold.

“Forget about all that, that’s what you have to say as a supportive partner. I’m asking you for brutal honesty though here. If it was up to you, would you have me keep doing this? Or would I be here in Japan, week in and week out, starting the next phase of my life? Maybe becoming someone out of the water?” Rin’s face is as open as he’s ever seen it, but Makoto can’t bring himself to admit how exhausted he is of missing Rin, of wasting time they could be together, of being separated from the intoxicating, endearing man in front of him. No matter what Rin thinks, this is not his decision to make, for Rin to resent him for later. Even reminding him how very special he is to Makoto, might unfairly sway Rin’s choices.

He gathers all the force he can muster. “Rin, I think you are doing exactly what you should be doing. You’re still swimming at the top of your game, the best you’ve ever been, and I want you to keep doing it. Our current arrangement works perfectly.”

Rin’s eyes are open wide, eyebrows pulled together in concern, searching Makoto’s face for clues. “That’s how you really feel?”

“I promise, Rin,” answers Makoto so convincingly, he almost hides the small lie from himself. Almost.

 

**

 

It is still pitch black out when Makoto swims to consciousness, wondering what woke him up. He jerks his head to his left, Rin’s side of the bed, momentarily forgetting that Rin has been out of the country for the past two weeks and isn’t due back for another week. After he returns home, he’s home for months, and he knows the next seven days are going to drag until the moment Rin is physically back in his arms, his bed, his life. Still groggy, he hears his phone ring, and he squints at the clock, bright blue numbers glowing 02:41, which immediately puts him on high alert without his boyfriend’s head safely on the pillow beside him. 

Heart pounding, stomach in tight knots, he scrabbles for his phone, sees an unfamiliar number, and frantically taps to answer the call. “Hello?” His voice sounds scratchy and panicked as it echoes in his head.

“Makoto?” He hears the voice of a girl that sounds much younger than someone in her early twenties should sound, and his sister’s tone does nothing to send his heart back up where it belongs. 

“Ran, what’s going on? What’s the matter?” Makoto’s words rush out, trying to calm his sister despite how unsettled he feels. 

She begins to cry and his heart breaks at the sound. “I’m at the hospital. Th-there’s been an accident, and it’s Mom and Dad, and they were in the car, and the car is totaled, and I guess Mom is stable for the most part but, but...” her voice trails off and all Makoto hears is huge hiccuping sobs. He fears what her next words were about to be. 

“Ran,” he whispers. “What about Dad?” He doesn’t really want the answer.

“Come home, _please_ , Daddy needs you,” Ran cries over the phone like she’s much younger and bawling into her big brother’s shoulder like she just skinned her knee after trying out his old skateboard. That memory flashes through his mind and how that compares to the magnitude of this current problem threatens to overwhelm him. 

Makoto swallows thickly. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, Ran, hang in there.” He ends the phone call and scrolls through his contacts to find the name he needs the most right now, the person he depends on to steady his breathing when he’s drowning. 

Makoto pauses to glance at the clock again, sees that it’s only 03:02, and considers that there is no time difference between Tokyo and Seoul, so it’s the middle of the night for Rin too. He’s not here, he’s traveling, and Makoto has to rely on someone who can actually help him in this moment. His thumb hovers over the familiar characters, not pressing down to call, but waiting for the insecurities that flit through his mind to pass. He gets up and moves to his closet to grab a bag, where he throws whatever clothes he finds first into it, not even bothering to fold them. He tugs on a pair of pants and an old shirt, already zoned out and moving on autopilot, focused on getting to his family, his siblings. Those are the people in his life who rely on him, which means it is time for him to rely on his own people, the ones who never leave him. He shoves his feet into shoes, clutches his bag, and heads out the door.

A short train ride later, Makoto finds himself briskly walking through Edogawa heading to his best friends’ flat. He presses down their buzzer, unable to politely take his finger off the button. Now that’s he’s stopped moving, the gravity of his parent’s situation causes him paralysis, so much so even his mind gets fuzzy around the edges.

He doesn’t hear the footsteps softly approaching, but the door is flung open and Haru stands before him rumpled but alert, searching his face for clues. “Makoto.”

“Dad’s in the hospital,” is all he mumbles out before Haru tugs him over the threshold, steers him gently to the couch, and forces him to sit. 

“What do you need?” Haru asks in the unflappable, dependable voice he has always possessed, his stoicism guiding Makoto through endless storms, real and imagined. 

Makoto shrugs helplessly, not to be difficult, but he realizes he does not know. He can tell his face pulls into a frown, his skin too taut on his forehead, eyes scrunched in an unfamiliar way, lips turned uncomfortably towards the ground. Haru reaches for his hands which are tightly fisted in his lap, as he sits across from him, body tilted in towards Makoto’s while perched on the low table. 

“Should we leave for Iwatobi tonight or wait until the morning?” Haru tries to draw answers out of Makoto, not usually the one filling the silences. Makoto can’t find his voice, though grateful for the implied companionship, needs Haru to read _his_ mind for once since his powers of speech are failing him. “Is Rin meeting you here or there?”

Makoto knows, he _knows_ , he should alert Rin to this development. What he doesn’t know is whether Rin would actually drop everything to rush to his side, offer up the instant, unrequested support that his best friend is already providing. His partner is absent for so much already, it isn’t too far a leap to be expected to deal with this alone, like all the other little situations that pop up unexpectedly throughout the course of each day, which he has to shoulder by himself. Makoto’s burdens are not Rin’s burdens, have never been Rin’s burdens, and why should they be, how can they be, when Rin continues chasing dreams and reaching heights that perpetually evade Makoto. Rin’s soars through the clouds, while Makoto resolutely plods along the ground, waiting for Rin to join him back on earth. 

Silence stretching between them, Makoto idly wonders if Rin will bother coming home if he needs to lower his father into the ground. 

“Makoto. Let’s leave now. I’ll wake Sousuke so he can drive us,” urges Haru, squeezing his hands firmly before releasing them in order to go rouse his husband. 

Moving at speeds unusual for Sousuke, they are piled into the compact SUV within minutes, at least it seems that way to Makoto. He sits in the backseat, hearing snatches of murmured conversation, the rhythmic back and forth of the low tones lull him into a state of semi-consciousness, sleep stubbornly evading his grasp. With only one stop for relief along the way, and Haru confirming the correct destination with Ran, they pull up to Iwamicho Hospital’s front doors around lunchtime, though Makoto is far from hungry for food. Sousuke drops them off before finding a place to park; Haru holds Makoto’s hand as they weave through the hospital so he can rejoin his family. 

 

**

 

The next few days are a blur of motion, Makoto taking turns with his siblings sitting vigil with their mother. They all hear the details of the car accident several more times than are necessary, but relaying the harrowing tale makes people feel useful in a useless situation so he listens to every descriptive word. His mother recounts it quietly every time they sit together by his father’s bedside. He can tell she needs to keep talking, keep reliving her most recent memories with her husband, an outcome of their love sitting by her side. Makoto talks with the nurses and doctors, his mother content to do nothing but hold her spouse’s hand and let her grown son handle the details, which he doesn’t mind as it allows him to feel productive and momentarily distance himself from his own poisonous thoughts. 

He steps outside the room for a break from yet another retelling of the collision and sees Haru fidgeting with his phone, face pinched in concentration. Makoto breaks the silence with a condition update. “They’re worried about his collapsed lung and the fact he’s got a persistent headache. Well, and that he can only seem to stay awake for a few minutes at a time, but each time is always a little longer than the last, so the doctor thinks things look promising for a full recovery.” Haru's stare remains fixed on the device in his hands.

Makoto tries to engage him with a different topic. “Everything alright with Sousuke? He didn’t get in trouble at work for driving us out here the other day, did he?”

Haru peers over at him, confused. “I just got off the phone with Rin.”

A swell of discontent rises in Makoto’s chest, a bubble he tries to forcibly shove back down. “Everything alright in South Korea?”

Haru blinks at him for a moment. “I called to yell at him for not being here, ask what’s taking him so long to come back.” Makoto knows where this is going already, shame warring with irritation within him. “He didn’t know. He said you haven’t been picking up his calls, only texting him short meaningless replies about nothing when he texts you first.” 

There is no suitable reply to the unspoken question, so Makoto holds his tongue. He has his reasons for radio silence with his boyfriend, and he doesn’t care to hear how supportive, how generous, how loving Haru believes Rin to be. The fact of the matter stands that Rin is not present in Makoto’s daily life and this is a prime example of that void.

“Makoto. I didn’t know you were keeping this a secret from him,” explains Haru, mystified yet apologetic, and Makoto hears his best friend judging him, despite Haru being the most open-minded person he knows. 

He shrugs. “It’s not a secret. I just didn’t want to bother him, which this would have done.” Makoto is sure of that alone, he can practically hear the scoff before being told how Rin gets it because he’s suffered loss, and at least _his_ father is still alive. Rin would want him to buck up and be appreciative, saying just enough for Makoto to be fine so that Rin could return to his rigorous life without guilt weighing him down. 

“Well, he knows now and is on his way to Iwatobi. He thinks he can get here by tonight.” Haru returns his glance to his sleeping phone, still turning it over and over in his unusually restless hands. “Are you guys okay?” 

“We’re fine and that really isn’t the most important thing on my mind right now, Haru,” retorts Makoto, feeling stung that Haru isn’t more on his side on this topic, which he immediately feels guilty over. “Thank you for being here. I’m not happy you have a sore ankle keeping you from competing, but it’s nice to not be alone dealing with this.”

His best friend opens his mouth, then snaps it closed, before giving a slow nod. “I’m glad I can help. Your family is my family too.”

They walk down to the cafeteria for lunch, Makoto’s appetite having slowly returned over the past couple of days, as his father’s condition has ever so slowly improved. They eat leisurely then briefly part ways, Haru wanting to check in with Sousuke, Makoto needing to return to his parents, as both his siblings are stealing afternoon hours to catch up on the growing amount of homework that is building up during their final year of university. 

Makoto pulls his phone out, wonders if Rin is already in the air or if he should try to quickly contact him before he departs. He’ll check in with his parents first, then update Rin, which he is acutely aware he should have done days ago. He slips his phone into his back pocket as he opens his father’s temporary door. He walks into the hospital room and the air is thick with tension and his mother’s hysterical tears. There are two nurses in the room, one gravely filling out a chart, the other standing by his mother’s side. He snaps his head to the head of the bed, where his father looks to be asleep. The machines are dark next to his head and Makoto cannot fathom why that would be except-

No. His hands start to shake. “Mom?” He calls out to his mother but she cannot hear him, lost in the sounds of her own grief next to her motionless husband. Makoto backs slowly out of the room, not wanting to see anymore of that scene, not wanting some nurse to explain what he already knows. His feet carry him to the wall across from his father’s room. His back slams against the plaster and he sinks to the floor, chest tight and unable to hold onto any thoughts that enter his mind. He should call Ren and Ran, he should update Haru, he should comfort his mother, he should look at his father _one last time_ ; there are so many things he should do, and yet all Makoto can do is sit on the floor staring at the door across from him. 

After a minute, an hour, days maybe, concerned blue eyes interrupt Makoto’s unfocused view. He stares into them until they move, the hands that he hadn’t realized had been gripping his shoulders let him go, and he is pulled into a strong embrace. Makoto’s breath hitches once, twice, until he realizes he’s crying and soaking his best friend’s shoulder. His own shoulder is damp and he pulls back to see Haru’s eyes are red-rimmed and full of pain. 

“I’m so sorry,” whispers Haru. “I’m so sorry.”

Eventually Makoto forces himself out of Haru’s arms and off the floor, needing to be with his mother, remind himself that he is not anchorless and rootless in this world, he’s still got one parent to support him and who he will support in turn. They cling to one another for awhile, Ren and Ran wordlessly joining them; it’s an impossibility to differentiate anyone’s tears. The nurses encourage them to go home, try to rest, all the details will still be waiting to be sorted tomorrow with less tired, though not less anguished, minds. His mother refuses to leave, but verbally forces her brood to leave, to sleep, to come back tomorrow with clearer heads. Makoto reasons she wants her final moments with the man she loves before he is physically removed from her grasp and she is obligated to carry on alone. 

An odd numbness settling over him, Makoto rejoins Haru, and they part from his siblings outside the hospital. He feels nothing, which even he knows is crazy. He should be grief-stricken, angry, unable to function, but he puts one foot in front of the other with relative ease as they make their way to the train station. Haru says nothing, always tolerant of silence, but resolutely grips Makoto’s hand throughout their entire journey to their childhood homes. 

As they reach the familiar steps, and begin the first part of the climb, Haru lets go. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

Makoto wants the familiarity of his old bed, the fake sense of comfort brought by imagining his whole, intact family is sleeping in their beds as well. He wants to be alone but not feel alone. He wants-

Rin. Obscured by shadows, but unmistakably him, Rin sits on the stoop outside the Tachibana home with his suitcase flung next to him, elbows on his knees, cheeks in his hands, glare fixed on the ground. He raises his head and locks eyes with Makoto. He gets up with a small hopeful smile plastered to his face. “How’s he doing? Haru hasn’t updated me since this morning but it sounds like things are progressing. That’s good, right?” He bites his lower lip, a habit Makoto adores but in this moment causes him another emotion, which must display itself clearly on his face because Rin’s expression falters. “Did things get worse?”

Haru glances over at Makoto, then turns to his teammate with a slight shake of his head. “Rin.”

Makoto looks up in time to see a silent conversation flowing between them, and at another time would be overjoyed to witness how far they’ve come in their communication skills, but is instead annoyed by this display of over-protectiveness. In a few short strides Rin stands directly in front of him, a pained look on his face, before he throws his arms around Makoto, drawing him into a hug and echoing Haru’s words before verbatim. “I’m so sorry.” 

He stiffens and rears back. “That’s fine, Rin.” 

“Makoto,” murmurs Haru, confusion in his eyes as he stares at the scene before him. 

Makoto smoothly turns to his best friend. “Goodnight, Haru. I’ll stay in my own home tonight but thank you for offering.” Haru’s eyes flick to Rin, who looks back with an open, wounded expression. “Rin can stay where he likes, here or with you, if that’s no trouble.” 

He feels two intense stares boring into him as he moves to the front door to unlock it. He closes the door behind him to stand in the entryway, unable to walk further into his own childhood house. He expects grief or pain or _anything_ to sweep through him and pull him under now that he’s here, but he remains overcome with a vast expanse of nothing filling him. He doesn’t know if he’s too empty or too full to process everything, but he thinks if he tosses a stone into himself, it just might fall forever. 

The door opens and closes quietly behind him and two arms twist around him to hug him from behind. Rin’s forehead presses into the back of his neck, and he’s quiet, content to simply breathe with Makoto. He wants to place his hand over where Rin’s are clasped together on his chest, to pull Rin in closer, allow Rin to suck out all the emptiness so Makoto can be full of any emotion that threatens to consume him. If there’s anything Rin is an expert at, it’s making Makoto feel things more thoroughly and deeply than he ever thought were possible. But no matter how much he wants to drown himself in Rin, he pushes out of the embrace and turns around instead. Looking at his partner right now provides him with nothing but more emptiness. 

Rin breaks the silence. “Do you want to talk?”

“No,” replies Makoto without even entertaining the thought.

“How does sleep sound?” Rin tries again. Makoto isn’t sure he’s ever heard him sound so tentative, which is all wrong to his ears, but he doesn’t have the heart to comment on it. He shrugs. 

“Let’s start by taking your shoes off.” Rin crouches down and gently places his hand on Makoto’s ankle, urging him to lift his foot. Obediently he raises first one foot, then the other, allowing Rin to slip his shoes off. Then, Rin’s back at eye level, warm hands blindly groping for his. When Rin is finally successful, he lightly tugs, trying to dislodge Makoto from the entryway, before Makoto rips his hand away. 

“It’s fine, Rin. I can get up the stairs on my own,” he declares, moving his hand again when his boyfriend tries to reach for it. 

Rin studies him. “Let me help you. I know what you’re-”

Finally Makoto feels something small begin to burn in his veins. “No you don’t. You were a child.” That last remark is too hurtful to be coming out of his mouth but he can’t bring himself to care or stop there. “You had your mom to take care of everything. You had someone to lean on and to pick up all the pieces.”

Wide red eyes stare at him in disbelief, but Makoto is not going to let Rin steal this moment with his own tears and dramatics. The anger is bubbling now, and if he doesn’t calm down Rin will get the brunt of it flung his direction. The scary thing for Makoto is that he does not want to calm down, he wants to feel and rage, and if he burns something down to the ground while he’s doing it, so be it. But he doesn’t particularly want to hurt Rin, it’s not his fault his father is dead, he just wasn’t _there_ , like he never is, and that is what Makoto latches on to, what fuels his anger.

“You should leave.”

Unfortunately, Rin won’t back down from this confrontation. His hotheadedness has lessened over the years, but Makoto knows maturity alone is not enough to allow his partner to walk away when he feels he has been dealt an injustice. “I’m not going to leave you like this. And you can rely on _me_ to help you pick up the pieces, that’s why I won’t leave right now.”

As fast as the feelings flare up, they recede, leaving Makoto exhausted and emptier than before. He slowly moves towards the stairs, trudging like his body is filled with lead, before tossing an order over his shoulder. “Goodnight Rin. Go stay with Haru.” He can feel the weight of Rin’s eyes on him as he climbs the steps. 

 

**

 

Makoto lies awake in bed, no more rested than he had been when he first laid down hours ago. He doesn’t want to get up, he can’t sleep, and the worst part is that he knows he can’t hide anywhere, he needs to deal with everything his mother cannot handle. He wants to help, that’s part of his role here on earth, but he simply does not have the energy or will to care about being useful, the dutiful son, everyone’s steady rock. When he hears bustling noises and low voices coming from the first floor, he forces himself to roll out of bed. 

He grabs whatever pants and shirt are on the top of the duffel bag and tugs them on, rinses his mouth out, and with a sigh, heads downstairs. The first thing he sees is Rin sitting at the desk in the hall with the phone cradled by his ear, his mother’s address book open on his lap. Thankfully Rin doesn’t notice him, as whomever is on the other end of the line must finally pick up. Makoto walks past him, feels Rin turn to stare after him as he continues on to the kitchen, though he thinks he hears Rin greet his Auntie Sayo, which confuses him and he shakes his head to clear it. 

“Good morning, Makoto,” says Haru, busy at the stove cooking what smells like eggs. On the table are four bento boxes, wrapped with cloth and stacked as if ready to be brought to their destination. Haru moves to check the rice cooker, then turns to him. “These are lunch for you, your mother, and your siblings. Even if you aren’t hungry, you all need to eat.”

“Oh,” mumbles Makoto, gazing blankly at the table. Haru comes to stand next to him, places his palm on Makoto’s forearm. 

“Rin’s been on the phone all morning, calling your aunts and uncles directly, and asking them to spread the word.”

The anger is back, simmering just out of reach. “Why is he doing that?”

The hand on his arm tightens its grip. “To help.”

“Why now,” retorts Makoto, maneuvering out of his friend’s grasp. Rin is an expert at barging into people’s lives and shaking things up and then leaving, running away, abandoning all the friends he convinced to care about him. Haru should understand this better than anyone, and it confuses Makoto that he looks perplexed by the resistance to Rin’s attempt at support. “Where has he been for the last seven years, Haru?”

Haru’s eyes move from Makoto’s over to a spot behind his head, towards the doorway, where Rin stands with his arms hanging limply by his sides, lips pressed together in a thin line. Makoto thinks about what Rin overheard and cannot regret a single word; Rin is gone more than he’s around, and when Makoto truly needed him he was absent. 

“Haru, could we have a minute?” The determined set to Rin’s jaw is recognizable by anyone who knows him. The last time Makoto saw it, it was after their research on which wards within Tokyo they could live in if they ever decide to take their relationship to the next level; Makoto was able to kiss away the strain of that conversation, but has no desire to use that same technique in his family home under the current circumstances. He wants to be left alone, he doesn’t want to have a meaningful conversation with Rin right now because those take an energy level that is beyond him right now. Makoto digs down to grab for the one emotion he can reach in the pit of nothing within him; he seizes the rage and brings it to the surface.

Haru hesitates at the doorway, glancing between Rin and Makoto. “I’ll just be at my house. Come get me if you need me.” Makoto can tell those words are directed mostly at Rin, which brings another flare of irrational emotion to settle next to the anger, ready to be lobbed into enemy trenches. His conviction wavers when he looks at the two faces which normally steady him and remind him he is loved and valued and important. He feels the rage ebb slightly, which scares him, he does not want to feel nothing; unsettled is better than numb.

When the door shuts softly behind Haru, Rin closes the gap between them, although stopping short of touching Makoto, instead gripping the back of a chair so hard his knuckles are white. “Tell me what you need from me.”

“Things are fine, Rin. I promise.” Makoto fights the anger, gives one last attempt to soothe lingering concerns and ruffled feathers. It all hinges on whether or not the man trembling next to him is spoiling for a fight.

Rin huffs a sigh out through his nose, one breath conveying all the hostile insecurities roiling within him. “For once, will you stop pretending you’re okay! Talk to me!”

“I would have talked to you but you were in Korea,” protests Makoto, knowing how unfair he’s being but spewing out accusations anyway. 

“I had no idea anything was wrong until Haru called me!” Rin splutters out, impossibly clutching the chair even tighter than he was before. “Why didn’t _you_ call me?

Makoto shrugs. He doesn’t want to fight, he hates arguing with Rin, but he’s seething and the dam needs to burst. Rin is one word away from punching a giant hole into it and feeling the deluge.

“You’re so determined to protect yourself and your feelings, but what about me?” 

“You?”

“Yeah, me. The one you accused of abandoning you for the last seven years, which happens to be the entirety of our relationship. I’m not a mind-reader, Makoto. You have done nothing but tell me continuously that things are fine, you don’t mind my lifestyle, we can get through this, I should follow my dream, you support me. Damn it, Makoto, you have always told me you support me. Has that all been bullshit?”

“Excuse me Rin, can we not analyze our relationship right now, when I need to be focused on burying my father.”

Rin flushes with shame and swallows down a retort so hot on his tongue Makoto can hear the unspoken words, see the physical exertion to calm his tone. “You’re right. So talk about that. Let it out, I’ll listen.”

“It’s fine, Rin. You don’t want to hear me blubbering about how great my dad was. _Was_ , Rin.”

“Don’t tell me what I want to hear. I want to hear anything you’ve got to say.”

“My father was amazing, the best, and now that’s he’s dead I can add one more thing to my nightmare list.”

“You still have really bad nightmares?” Rin’s face softens and Makoto has a fleeting desire to kiss the corners of his eyes, like Rin does for him when he wakes in fear, drenched in sweat, heart pounding in his ears. Then he remembers the cold side of the bed the last time that happened. 

“You’d know that if you were ever around.”

Rin recoils and turns his head as though he’d been slapped. “I’m trying here, can’t you see that? Isn’t that enough for you?”

Makoto is so tired; Rin makes him tired and he doesn’t know when that began, perhaps it has always been the case. “I don’t want to do this, Rin. I don’t have the energy to do this, and there are more important things which need to get taken care of.”

“We need to work through this,” pleads Rin, rubbing his forehead viciously, all the frustration he attempts to remove from his tone being used against his skin.

“No, we don’t! _This_ is what I was trying to avoid! _All_ of this!” With a shout so loud he assumes Haru can hear him all the way from his grandmother’s house, Makoto steps away. _He cannot do this with Rin right now_. He drops his voice to a whisper, his shoulders sagging with the effort of staying upright. “Please go, Rin. I don’t want your help.”

Rin looks over at him, eyes filled with an emptiness Makoto hasn’t seen in them since he first returned from Australia as an adolescent all those years ago. “Where do you want me to go? Haru’s?”

He knows where Rin should go before things get even worse, since Makoto has apparently lost all ability to control what he says. “Tokyo.”

“Tokyo,” repeats Rin dully. 

“Unless you have some other trip you need to take in the meantime, don’t let my family situation hold you back.” Rin definitely needs to go before Makoto irrevocably ruins their relationship with his words that he hears getting out of hand. Rin is not accountable for the car accident, for his father’s passing, Makoto knows this on a fundamental level but he cannot stop _blaming_ Rin for what he feels right now. 

Shoulders taut with tension and withheld words, Rin stalks into the living room and returns to the kitchen with his suitcase. He opens his mouth no less than three times, each time closing it without letting any words escape, conflict obviously warring far below the surface. He finally speaks in a voice held together with a razor-thin level of control. “You shouldn’t deal with all this on your own, you need help. Even if you don’t want me, please find somebody to lean on, someone to talk to.”

Without waiting for a response, which is a relief because Makoto has nothing else to say to him, Rin spins on his heel and heads to the front door. Makoto feels a weight lift off his shoulders, but instead of being free, it relocates to settle heavily in his chest. Even in his absence, Rin does not allow Makoto to feel nothing, he is now filled to the brim with an aching loss.

 

**

 

 _Rin gazes out on the water to his right, his prayer concluded, words sent to his father that he has no confirmation are ever received. He has faith that they are, trusting that his journeys as a professional swimmer, as Makoto’s partner, as a man, have been observed and supported silently by his missing parent._

_He feels a tug on his sleeve and turns with a smile. “Welcome back.”_

_Makoto beams back at him, eyes crinkled and head tilted in his trademark expression, though Rin clings to the notion that there is more behind the face when it’s directed at him, an underlying fondness that only he sees. “I’m home, Rin.”_

_“How was your conference?” Rin wants all the details of his boyfriend’s week in Kyoto for mandatory career advancement, classes and seminars focusing on child development and new teaching techniques. He is proud of Makoto all the time, but adores listening to him espouse about his job, never failing to light up when he shares a student’s triumph over a hard-fought struggle or when he explains how Rin might have to share Makoto with the third grader who proposed to him after the school assembly. “I missed you.”_

_“Not more than I missed you,” replies Makoto, not as an uncontrollable reflex, but with a longing and surety in his tone that conveys how very much he means those words. Rin wants to always believe in Makoto’s feelings, his convictions, his deep-seeded belief in Rin and in them and in their life together. “It was good. Can I tell you about it later? I’d like to talk to your dad first.”_

_Rin’s breath catches in his throat when Makoto bows and places his hand on the gravestone. He murmurs so quietly Rin can’t make out the words, but knows any moments shared between the two men most important in his life are special and to be cherished. It’s been so long since he’s seen his father, he struggles to remember how it felt when he hugged him or tucked him into bed, realizes he can’t call to mind his laugh or his voice. He has no idea if his father would approve of the person currently deep in conversation with him, but he clings to his mother’s words that his dad was big-hearted and open-minded and he would approve of anyone who loves his Rin as much as Makoto does. He watches Makoto now, reverently talking to a man he only knows from broken-hearted stories and precious memories, and believes with all his heart that his father would love him as much as he does, as much as his mother and Gou do. There is nothing to not adore about Makoto; Rin can honestly say he’s the most amazing person he’s ever known. Sometimes it still surprises him that Makoto chose him, when he probably could have had anyone he wanted, someone who is more than just a success in the water. Rin feels blessed, not for the first nor the last time, that he is who Makoto wants to share his dreams, his fears, his joys, his time, his life with._

_“I love you,” breathes out Rin, nearly overwhelmed by the forceful waves of his own heart._

_Makoto closes his eyes and ends his conversation. “Not more than I love you.”_

 

**

 

“Makoto, wake up,” urges Haru, shaking his shoulder. Makoto lifts his head off his chest, groaning at the pain in his hip from being wedged in a waiting room chair during his nap. “Your mother just signed the last of the papers, which means we need to get ready to head back to Tokyo tonight.”

Makoto shifts and blearily peers up at his best friend. “I’m ready to go back.” He’s ready to return to work and immerse himself in teaching, he’s ready to get a call that his services are needed at the fire department he volunteers at, he’s ready for the bustle of the city he has grown to consider more of a home than Iwatobi. He’s even ready to face the mess of his relationship with Rin, once something he considered as immovable as Mount Fuji, now in ragged tatters that he himself shredded. Maybe it needed the destruction, perhaps neither of them are fulfilled any more by the simplicity of each other, the ease between them not challenging enough to be sustainable. Makoto craves support and affirmation and someone who is alright with him putting himself first. Does Rin provide those things for him, or does their comfortable intimacy with each other merely stem from common history, mutual friends, shared interests, with embers kept smoldering by passion that they use to fill the ever-widening spaces between them. Rin came home after university to an easy reminder of younger more carefree days, and Makoto got swept up in the feelings of being noticed by someone so radiant and beautiful, Rin’s energy lighting him up from within. He wishes Haru or Sousuke would have told him they were burning too hot and too brightly to last, that Rin would fail him during his biggest life crisis. 

The emptiness that consumed him, that was replaced by rage, has been taken over by a sadness so huge it threatens to overwhelm him sometimes when he least expects it. Tokyo might be able to drown it out, force it out of his soul with noise, light, people; he longs to move forward from the weight of grief and he can’t do that from his childhood town. He is useless to his mother and to his siblings when he can’t rein in the emotions, which is probably why Haru has not left his side the past ten days, not since Rin left. Sometimes, Makoto can’t believe he actually went.

He and Haru escort his mother back home, where her sisters are waiting for her. They began dribbling in before the funeral and have yet to leave, the house bursting with women and a healing feminine energy that chased Makoto out and up the steps to the refuge of the Nanase residence. He trudges inside to kiss his aunties and grab his bag, bidding his mother farewell, knowing she’s in better hands than if he stayed longer, especially with Ren and Ran not too far away either. For being the new man of the house, he feels fairly unequipped to handle the job, and considers appointing Haru as an honorary Tachibana, although truthfully he stole that title years ago.

They begin their trip to the train station in silence, Haru’s phone buzzing with an occasional text message. Makoto wants to ask about it but can’t quite dredge up enough curiosity to voice a question. He recalls walks along this same sidewalk next to the ocean back when days were simpler in elementary school, middle school, even high school was simpler than now. Even when disrupted by a spirited force of nature that came and went like a hurricane, whipping up peers into a frenzy only to leave them in his wake, there was an uncomplicated air to it that Makoto longs for. 

“Were you just thinking about Rin?” Haru inquires innocently, while staring out over the water, his face more defined and with more character than in the past, but not much has changed about this view from where Makoto walks beside him. 

Makoto hums in agreement. “I guess so, in a way.”

“Oh,” responds Haru with a mild frown. “Have you talked to him at all since he left?”

“No,” answers Makoto, because it’s the truth and he has no reason nor desire to lie about this, not to Haru. He glances at his childhood friend, still pointedly staring at the sea. His phone alerts him again, and Haru reads the message before sighing and pocketing his device once more. “Is that Sousuke?”

Haru nods. “He’s worried.”

“Tell him there’s nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine,” retorts Makoto lightly. He needs everyone to stop thinking he’s going to have a breakdown. He is sad and grieving his father. There is a huge gaping hole in his life now that he can’t wrap his head around, that took a few days after his father’s death to really settle inside him and make itself known, but he’s not about to find a tragic solution to end his suffering. 

Haru scoffs, sounding very much like a certain swimmer that Makoto would rather not think about seeing at the other end of this upcoming train ride across the country. “It’s not you he’s worried about.” Haru pauses. “What’s going to happen now, when you get back to Tokyo?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Makoto shrugs to convince Haru of his apathy. Haru stops walking and flings out an arm to halt Makoto’s progress as well. 

“Have you given up?” Haru asks, eyes wide with alarm, like some tiny seed of doubt has just figured out how to embed itself in the soil of his mind and lay down roots. Haru’s long fingers dig into his forearm. Makoto wrinkles his brow in confusion. “On Rin?”

Hearing his name should make the anger surge up, or give Makoto the urge to wail like a toddler, but all it does is make him mournful in a full-bodied way, like the melancholy is deep in the marrow of his bones and set to fester there for the foreseeable future. “I think it’s time I stop holding Rin back, forcing myself to be enough for him, when he has more important things to do, different places to be. Even a death in the family wasn’t enough to get him to slow down.”

“Are we talking about the same Rin?” Haru voices the rhetorical question but it tires Makoto and he fights to not roll his eyes, as he wonders how he was so delusional in his relationship for seven years, apparently content to just bear witness to Rin’s glow while they lived parallel lives. “The Rin who writes you a love letter to read for every day he’s away before any trip? The Rin who almost missed the connecting flight once when we had a layover in Paris because he was desperate to hunt down some tea you became obsessed with during that over-the-top French vacation he planned as an anniversary surprise? The Rin who came to my door at midnight on the day he arrived back to Japan permanently because he needed to find you and tell you that he’s home? Makoto. He’s ridiculous but he’s yours.”

Makoto shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t think he’s ever been mine and I don’t think I’ve ever been his. We’re just two people whose orbits overlapped for awhile.” Haru snaps his mouth closed and begins walking again, rushing more than before, Makoto has to hustle to keep up. 

It’s a long silent train ride back to Tokyo, and Makoto thinks that’s fine as he dozes on and off the entire time. Haru clasps his wrist firmly as he’s about to get off, his stop is sooner than Haru’s. 

“Come over tomorrow, after work. It’s Monday so it’s Sousuke’s night to cook.” Makoto nods so Haru will release him, and he steps off the train. He begins the short walk, remembering more fun trips home from the train station, usually with Rin at his side cackling about something or other. If sorrow was a physical thing he felt compelled to describe, he would label it is a rubber band that lies snug against his heart, always a presence he can feel of late, but sometimes pulled so tight he wonders how his heart still beats effectively enough to keep him alive. Maybe the rubber band of sorrow is why he only feels half alive the past few days, pasting a wan smile on his face to get through enough hours before he can justify laying down again, his heart not capable of beating strongly enough to power him through a full day.

Makoto holds his keys in his hand, hesitant to put them in the lock and cross the threshold. He has nothing to say. Rin will probably have too much to say. He doesn’t want to hear empty words and Rin doesn’t want to hear his silence. He sighs and opens the door, waiting for the crackle of energy to seep into him, Rin always bringing things to life around him, whether anyone wants him to or not. There are no shoes in the entryway except for his old rain boots which he tries to avoid storing in the closet. He peers up at the hooks and doesn’t see Rin’s charcoal gray hoodie which practically lives on the hook second from the left. He bends down to remove his shoes and wanders further inside their flat, gazing around the living room, eyes coming to rest on the over-stuffed CD tower in the corner, except it’s mostly empty. He quickly scans the sparse titles, looking for Sublime, Fallout Boy, Green Day, any one Rin’s American favorites, not even his treasured guilty pleasure Stereopony collection is there. He does however find the Babymetal CDs that he had gifted to Rin one Christmas Eve after Rin had begged him for some of Makoto’s favorite music to take with him when he travels.

Makoto braces himself and peeks into the bedroom, _their_ bedroom, and avoids looking at the bed, knowing Rin’s childhood pillow is assuredly missing. He isn’t sure why he checks the closet, he knows it’ll be half empty, which it is, all his clothes gone, including the hideous black and white duster cardigan that Rin wears around the house in the dead of winter, when the heat can’t keep up with the wind that whistles through the gaps in the windows. _Why bother with windows at all in this place? Might as well just invite Jack Frost right into our bed with us if it’s gonna be this damn drafty in here._ Echoes of a winter sometime in recent history float around his memory, as he gazes forlornly around their room, merely slapping another layer onto the thick wall of sadness already erected inside him. 

He avoids the bathroom; seeing only one toothbrush on the sink and no metal basket overflowing with various hair products and foot creams might undo the mask of apathy that he wears to hide his true feelings. He usually smiles over the pain even when he’s alone, and truthfully has forgotten why he shields it from his own view at all, except he thinks if he starts digging he will uncover things best left deeply concealed. Makoto steps into the kitchen, there’s not much to discover in here if he doesn’t poke too hard at memories. He decides to make himself some tea, grabbing the first tin he can find, then putting the water on to boil. He opens the cabinet with the mugs and his mask slips. Staring at him is his moss green mug with tiny orcas leaping around the edge, the handle one large orca curved into a graceful arc, the perfect shape for his hand to wrap around. Sitting right next to it is Rin’s matching mug in crimson and decorated with sharks along the rim, and there is its handle, a toothy grinning shark mocking his defeat. Makoto sinks onto the floor, head in his hands, his body wracked with sobs louder than the whistling coming from the stove. The teakettle runs out of water before Makoto does. 

 

**

 

Makoto hears them arguing before he even knocks on their door.

 

“Haru, I’m having a really hard time seeing Makoto’s point of view.”

“He lost his father. I’ve never lost a parent, but I’m sure it’s more difficult than either of us can imagine.”

“You know who _has_ lost a parent? The same person he sent packing back to Tokyo.”

“Sousuke, it’s not that simple.”

“Why? Because he wants to wallow in self-pity and blame it all on grief?”

“I don’t think it’s as logical as all that. I doubt when his father died he fist pumped the air and thought ‘now I can finally get rid of Rin’.”

“I suppose not, but Rin’s a wreck, and I don’t know what to do. You heard him last night when you got home.”

“I did. I wish I hadn’t.”

“I think after Makoto, you and I have seen Rin at some of his lowest points.”

“You can take Makoto out of that. I don’t think Rin’s had many low points since they’ve been together. He’s been really happy.”

“Even when he finished fourth at World’s in the 100 fly? That’s his event and he didn’t get on the podium. He’s a whiny asshole when he loses.” 

“In Barcelona? I forgot about that. I think he’s medaled in almost every butterfly event since.”

“He must have been obnoxious right after that.”

“I think that’s the time he skipped the press conference. I was worried he’d punched a hole in our hotel room wall so I went to find him. I walked in on him in the middle of a video call with Makoto. If he _was_ really upset, he wasn’t after they talked.”

“Haru.”

“What?”

“Rin’s worse than I’ve ever seen him. I know you think that too.”

“I almost didn’t want to let him leave us yesterday. He seemed pulled together at practice today but he’s missing something big.”

“Yeah, Tachibana.”

“It’s more than that. His swimming is off and I don’t like how his face looks.”

“That’s cold, Haru. Don’t give me that face, I know what you meant. It’s like something's sucked Rin's soul out.” 

 

Makoto hears feet approaching the door but he’s frozen in place, he should run, catch the train back to Kōtō, but he can’t make himself move. Haru swings open the door and manages to keep from barreling into him. Blue eyes search his face, eyebrows knit in concern.

“Haru, I think I should go,” starts Makoto, not sure he can handle a night surrounded by his two best friends, neither of which are on his side, even though he’s the one who just had to bury his father, who’s constantly left behind by someone who claims to be his partner.

“Makoto.” Haru starts to reach out, then thinks better of it and drops his arm back to hang by his side.

“I can understand Sousuke. I can. But you’re supposed to be on my side, Haru,” whispers Makoto, feeling his throat grow thick, it’s difficult to swallow. “I thought we were always on the same side.”

A pained look flickers over Haru’s face. “We’re not on anybody’s side. There aren’t _sides_ , that’s stupid. We aren’t little kids choosing teams, this is real, Makoto. I’m sure you’re both justified and also both to blame. You love each other, that’s bigger than sides.”

“I do love, Rin. I don’t know if he loves me or if it’s even enough anymore.” Makoto heads towards the stairs. “Tell Sousuke whatever you want, but I’ll do dinner alone.”

Halfway down the staircase, he hears heavy footsteps pounding behind him and a hand wraps around his upper arm, halting his progress. “Tachibana, what the fuck is going on with you?” 

Makoto yanks his arm out of Sousuke’s grip. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. If you want to be on Team Rin, I won’t stop you.”

Sousuke scoffs and throws him a glare that would have intimidated him if he was half the age he is now. “Team Rin? Of course, I’ve been on Team Rin a long time. But you know, I’m also on your team, dumbass. Why can’t I be on both? Grieve as long as you need to but stop being an idiot.” With that, Sousuke, storms back up the stairs to his husband. 

Makoto heads home, stomach empty, mind full of slow thoughts, and a heart full of a weary ache that makes him want to curl into a ball. He ends his day alone, the first of a long string of days that all unfold the same way, beginning and ending with solitude, the middle filled with the energy-draining routine of teaching his third graders, communicating with parents, and pretending everything is fine. Every now and then he gets called into a fire, which is always a relief because it’s the only thing that allows him to channel his pain into something useful, heroic even, and deeply satisfying. He tacks his name onto a few more on-call shifts, with nothing else to fill his time, he might as well. 

Haru calls him every evening, and every evening Makoto hits the red “end call” button on his phone as soon as he hears the dolphin ringtone that indicates it’s his best friend. He receives texts as well, responding to those just frequently enough for Haru to know he’s alive so he doesn’t worry, or more importantly, come over to check on him out of pity. Makoto is sure they are supporting Rin through whatever this situation is; he’s not positive if they’ve broken up, and if so, it certainly wasn’t his decision. Much like their entire relationship, Rin steers the ship, Makoto merely along for the ride that ends up being a solo mission more often than not. 

After a couple weeks of little communication, Haru begins to visit his flat after training every day, knocking on the door and stubbornly waiting for far longer than anyone else would in his position. Makoto avoids him the first few days, but one time he walks up to his front door and Haru is already there. 

Haru looks the same as always, but the same sadness Makoto feels is laid out bare on his friend’s face. “Why are you pushing me away too? You’re hurting. Talk to me.” An echo of Rin’s plea to him, shortly after his father died, over a month ago in Iwatobi. _For once, will you stop pretending you’re okay! Talk to me!_ No, he doesn’t need this. 

“Haru, I appreciate you coming all the way here. Go home, where Sousuke’s waiting for you. You have someone, go be with him.” Makoto shoves his key into the lock and blocks Haru out, as he opens the door. “Just go home, I’m fine.” He slips inside and shuts the door on his oldest friend, to begin his evening of solitude and indulgent wallowing. 

As he starts to remove his shoes, he hears Haru’s soft words on the other side of the door. “You have someone. He’s still yours.”

 

**

 

_“Welcome back, Rin!” Makoto is standing at the baggage claim waiting for him._

_“I’m home! I can’t believe you came to the airport.” Rin eyes tighten with emotion. He’s physically exhausted, weary of traveling, and seeing his partner first thing off the airplane intensifies that feeling to a boiling point. Reunions are lovely, but it would be better if they weren’t a near constant in their lives. He’s not sure how Makoto doesn’t mind this, isn’t tired of all this. This doesn’t have to be their normal, the only thing they know. The endless cycle of departures and arrivals will cease when he decides to stop defining himself as a swimmer, when he decides to be nothing more than just Rin._

_Unaware of his inner turmoil, Makoto appears no less than thrilled to be back on the same soil. “Eh, totally worth burning a vacation day. I saw all your events, you did so amazing, I’m so proud of you!”_

_“I missed you, Makoto.” These words aren’t strong enough anymore for the longing for home that he feels when he’s on the road. Victories and rivalries and maintaining a competitive edge is taking its toll; a fire can burn high and bright for only so long before the fuel runs out._

_“Not more than I missed you.” Makoto swipes his bag from the baggage carousel, not allowing Rin to get his hands on it._

_“How are your students? How’s that one kid doing, the one who got teased for still believing in Santa in front of everybody?” Rin wants to hear every detail, enjoys listening to Makoto’s stories about his students. It’s obvious that he cares for each and every child that comes through his classroom, his passion for shaping minds and inspiring youth still a bottomless well that Rin admires._

_Makoto chuckles, the sound fuller and richer and warmer than anything transmitted across airwaves and computer speakers. “Oh she’s fine. We talked after class and I admitted that I believed until way older than her. She had a good laugh at my expense and felt better.”_

_Here’s a story he’s never heard. Rin has a feeling he’s about to be snickering at his boyfriend’s expense. “Really? How old, Makoto?”_

_“Sixth grade,” admits Makoto reluctantly._

_”Oh no! That’s fucking adorable. I love you.”_

_“Not more than I love you, Rin.”_

 

**

 

As a couple more weeks pass, Makoto begins to gradually feel the fog lift. He is hit with emotions that go beyond sadness, in fact, every now and then he could honestly say he feels fine and it would be true. There’s an underlying emptiness that lurks below the surface though, constantly threatening to pull him under. When that void opens up to suck him down, that is when he notices the rubber band around his heart that stubbornly remains, painfully squeezing until he longs to drop down into the pit of nothing, just for some relief. 

Haru calls less, texts less, and hasn’t come around since the day Makoto shut the door in his face. He thinks it’s about time for him to go to Edogawa and apologize for his actions that afternoon; that was no way to treat Haru, he deserves better than that. He checks his schedule, sees he’s on call this evening, which means he will be deservedly groveling after work the next night. However, a wrench is thrown into his plans the following afternoon when the seething, hulking mass of Haru’s husband waits outside Makoto’s elementary school. 

“Let’s walk, Makoto,” commands Sousuke, tipping his chin towards the sidewalk and setting the pace. 

Makoto gulps and follows, prepared to begin his apologies early, though in reality, many days late. “Sousuke-”

“Save it. I don’t need it. Listen, you’re one of my best friends, we’ve helped each other through a lot of shit. You held my hand when I came out, I held yours every time you broke up with someone because they weren’t the one person you wanted. You saved my ass when I was driving drunk, kept me from getting arrested. I’m about to save two of your relationships. We’ve got a lot of history. I care about you a lot. But I care about two people just the tiniest sliver more than you, and unfortunately, you’ve made them both miserable and that’s why I’m here. I need you to unfuck what you’ve fucked.” Sousuke continues to walk.

“I’m sorry.” Makoto states as honestly as he is capable. 

“Like I said,” continues Sousuke. “Save it. You might need to bring all of that to my house so my husband is able to get out of the bathtub. He spends all day in a pool, then comes home, and takes his dinner into the bathroom. I pull him out so he doesn’t sleep in there, but he’s really struggling right now. You’re hurting, Rin’s hurting, and Haru can’t handle all that. Now I’ve reached _my_ limit of being able to handle all that. Talk to Rin.”

“I’ll come home with you, Sousuke. Let me start with Haru,” begs Makoto. He can manage Haru, he’s been dealing with Haru soaking away his problems for years, although he can’t think of the last time it was necessary.

Sousuke stops walking and turns around. “No. Haru’s problems will probably fix themselves if you find your ballsack, pull it back out, and go to the one person you should have never let leave your side.”

“He left Iwatobi to go back to Tokyo,” argues Makoto. “He walked away.” Rin abandoned him before his father’s funeral just because of some small argument between them, hours after Makoto had learned his father had died.

“Are you serious right now?” Sousuke’s eyebrows are at his hairline and he peers at Makoto like he’s got a second head. “You’re saying Rin up and left you right after you told him your father died?”

“It was the next day I think, but yeah.” Makoto does not want to rehash that week so soon after finally rising above the miasma of despair he had sunk into for so long. He just wants to go see Haru and fix that part of the mess; Rin left him long ago, clearing out of their home and moving on. If he’s still a mess, that makes Makoto’s heart hurt for him but he’s strong, the strongest person he knows actually, and he will be just fine once he wants to be.

Sousuke lets out an undignified snort. “Well that’s fifty shades of fucked up, Makoto. You kicked him out of your house in Iwatobi. Told him to go back to Tokyo. You told Haru he spent your entire relationship abandoning you while Rin was standing right there listening. You told him you had nothing to say to him. The one thing you didn’t tell him was what happened to your dad, Haru broke the news to him assuming he already knew. Rin’s a lot of things but he’s not a liar, he’s not even an embellisher. His life’s exciting enough, the truth is usually fairly entertaining. I'm inclined to believe him, especially when Haru can confirm most of it.”

A high-pitched ringing is all Makoto hears, no longer making out all of Sousuke’s words, but he heard enough. Rin would never make anything like that up, not only would it be cruel, there wouldn’t be any reason for it. He knows he was lost under blankets of grief and he can’t remember much of his time in Iwatobi after his parents’ car accident, but he would recall fighting that viciously with Rin. He would. He’s having trouble breathing and he needs to sit down before his knees give out. “I don’t remember saying any of that.”

The rubber band is back and it’s pulling so tight Makoto is convinced his heart will be half the size by the time he recovers from this news bomb Sousuke just laid at his feet. The heart that beats in his chest isn’t even his at this point; he gave his heart to Rin a long time ago, and has been keeping Rin’s safe this entire time. Except he hasn’t been protecting Rin’s heart like the treasure that it is, instead he’s ripped it out of his body, flung it on the ground, and stomped all over it to ensure that it’s broken. His is probably safely nestled in a shark mug in his kitchen, reluctantly returned to its owner, but tucked someplace it can be retrieved and shared again. Makoto wants nothing more than to give his heart back, he doesn’t want it, he wants Rin to have it, Rin _should_ have it. He wonders if there’s anything left of Rin’s for him, if it would even be offered freely again after Makoto has been so reckless. 

A strong, large hand lands on his back. “Makoto, get up. The world hasn’t ended yet. Try talking to him.”

Makoto wants to weep like a small child, without anything holding the tears back. “Why would he even want to talk to me?” 

“He loves you,” responds Sousuke simply.

“I don’t even know where he is anymore. He moved out weeks ago, before I even got back,” whispers Makoto, barely audible over the ringing in his ears. “I don’t blame him.”

“I know where he’s been staying.” Sousuke hands Makoto a slip of paper with the house number on one side, and a carefully drawn sketch of the exact route from Haru and Sousuke’s place to this new address on the other side. “He drew that for me so I had no excuses. It’s actually not far from here, he still wanted to be close to training. You can walk there from here.”

Makoto holds the shaking piece of paper between his thumb and index finger, belatedly realizing it’s his hand that’s shaking. He’s not on call tonight, he can go right now. He glances at Sousuke, who raises an eyebrow back at him. “I think I’m gonna...”

“Yeah. Good luck,” offers Sousuke, before he shoves his hands in his pockets and moves towards the train station, presumably to head home. Makoto checks the map and begins to walk, following the arrow written in Rin’s tidy hand. It takes awhile at the meandering pace he’s set on this fairly quiet road along Sumida River, it’s probably much faster for Rin who runs to and from training many days, or takes the train on days with inclement weather. He stops in front of an unassuming blue building bearing the address written.

Makoto pushes open the door and is greeted immediately by a pleasant-looking older man behind the front desk of a simple lobby. 

“Good afternoon, sir. I was wondering how I get in contact with the tenant in room C4 in order to visit with him.” Makoto holds out his note to show him the information.

The man beams at him. “Ah C4, Matsuoka. You’re a new visitor, that’s nice. He’s a good man.” Makoto wonders who the other visitors have been, Sousuke obviously, probably Haru after practice, maybe Gou, although she doesn’t live in Tokyo so maybe she is unaware of Rin’s change in address. It occurs to him that perhaps he has brought other teammates over after practice as well, people to surround him, since Rin has learned over the years that isolating himself when he’s upset usually leads to slowly spiraling thoughts that are unhealthy and not worth his time. Makoto knows this as well, which is why he cannot understand how grief-stricken he must have been to have spurned Rin’s support and begged him to go somewhere far away, then ignored him for days, which rapidly turned into weeks, and is now measurable in months. “I’m afraid he’s gone for the foreseeable future.”

“Wait, what?” Makoto is confused, since this new information means even Sousuke isn’t aware of where Rin is currently located, which means Haru probably isn’t either. “Did he leave a new forwarding address?”

“Ah no, I’m sorry to say. He just left yesterday. Paid for another month of rent to hold his room, then informed me he was going to be gone. He didn’t have to tell me that much, I don't pry.” The man gave a slight bow. “I’m Sasano Keiji, the owner. Lots of good people stay here. I like Matsuoka. I like his regular visitors. I think I like you too.”

“Tachibana Makoto, nice to meet you.” He bows deeply in return. “I’m glad he’s been somewhere that someone likes him. And you’re right, he _is_ a good man. Thank you for your help.” 

After a few more quick pleasantries, Makoto leaves and heads to the train station, not wanting to walk anymore. He sinks down onto a bench, not even wanting to stand right now. He leans over to reach into his back pocket, and yanks out his phone to punch in a text to Haru; if Rin informed anyone of what was raging through his head it would be him. Unfortunately, Haru responds almost immediately with ignorance and surprise, only confirming that Rin had indeed not been at the aquatic center that morning. He drops his head into his hands, feeling himself sink rapidly back into the dark place within him, a place he doesn’t like at all and wants to get away from as fast as possible. He cannot allow himself to withdraw back inside himself, into that pit where he spent the last several weeks hiding out, before finally being able to drag himself up to the edge, ready to pull himself out. But it’s still darkness that surrounds him; he misses the light that Rin brings, that Makoto can reflect back towards him along with his own steadying breeze, something to wrap Rin in and hold him close through the distance that usually separates them. 

His phone alerts him to another text from Haru, which he checks so quickly the notification sound is still blaring while he reads the words. Haru tells him that Rin has informed the head coach that he will be training elsewhere for the next few weeks at least, but neither he nor any of the coaching staff knows exactly where. Makoto wishes Rin was not such a veteran, was a rookie that needed to be monitored closely and kept in line, but almost as soon as he thinks this, he regrets it. Rin is almost done, just waiting to swim in front of his home fans for his final Olympic Games. They are so close, _Rin_ is so close, Makoto unsure if they are still a _them_ , if he is still a part of a _we_ , if he is allowed to consider them on the same team, sharing the same goals. 

Guided by instinct and nothing else beyond a mildly thrumming panic, Makoto shoots off an inadequate apology text to Haru, then scrolls down to his principal. “Hello sir, I’m sorry to bother you after school hours, but I need to request a temporary leave of absence. My mother is struggling a bit and I need to be back in Iwatobi for a few weeks.” The lie flows off his tongue, when really it’s him who is having problems and craves the familiarity of home, the water, the winding pathways he could stroll blindfolded. His principal grants him three weeks to finish his business, a stay of execution for his career, but he isn’t concerned with that at the moment. All he is focused on is getting back to the small fishing town that raised him, seeking clarity and a spark of inspiration as to where Rin might be, where he might have escaped to. The sea is something that connects them together, a shared painful history that never fully releases either of them from its grip, and the sea is where Makoto longs to return to when he’s filled with doubts.

 

**

 

Makoto knocks on his own front door, which is a vaguely disconcerting feeling, but he is not sure he has the privilege of walking directly into his childhood house, where life continues on without him. His Aunt Yui opens the door and envelops him in a hug, her nurturing energy surrounding him and reminding him he is always welcome here. She is the only one left caring for his mother, the house quieter now than he can ever remember it, father gone, siblings away at university, himself theoretically moved on to bigger and brighter things.

“Mom,” he breathes out, bending down to embrace her, feeling small in her arms, feeling loved. His mother still grieves, still radiates a sense of loss that might never completely release her, but she is healing, that much Makoto can tell just by how she holds him. “I’m back for a bit.”

“Just you?” She responds immediately. He wonders if she’s asking after Rin or Haru or even his siblings. He confirms it’s just him and heads up to his former bedroom, sets down his bag, and flings himself on the bed, the mattress reminding him of simpler days. He closes his eyes, just for a moment, just to collect his scattered thoughts.

_“Oh my god, how did you just throw me like I weigh nothing?”_

_“I’m an Olympian, Makoto.”_

_“You’re my Olympian, Rin.”_

_“Damn right I am, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”_

_“This is quite a reunion, welcome back.”_

_“I’m home, Makoto, and I’m really fucking glad that you’re underneath me right now. I’ve missed this, I’ve missed you.”_

_“Not more than I’ve missed you.”_

_“You make me so happy, I can’t believe you’re always here waiting for me.”_

_“I won’t let you down. I’ll always wait for you.”_

_“I love you, Makoto.”_

_“Not more than I love you, Rin.”_

Makoto gasps as he bolts upright, rubber band cinching tight, not any more rested than before he laid down. He doesn’t know what he dreamt about but is vividly aware that he has epically failed Rin, when he’s promised him so many times he wants to be the one person Rin can always rely on for anything life shoves in their direction, the good, the bad, the mundane. Makoto misses quiet moments the most, the awareness of loving another person and being loved in return while occupying opposite ends of the couch, walking to the train, sharing meals, brushing teeth while standing shoulder to shoulder. 

He gets up, needing to clear his head, and decides to take a shower. He cleans himself off, washing away dirt, swirling thoughts rolling down the drain like so many tears. He dries off, dresses, and lopes down the stairs. “Mom? I’m going to Dad’s gravestone. Would you like to come with me?” 

She smiles softly at him, damp eyes fondly watching him. “I was there this morning. You go spend some time with your father.” She places a small hand on his broad shoulder. “I love you, Makoto. He was always proud of you, I’m sure he still is.” He walks away from his house knowing he hasn’t done anything recently to be particularly proud of, and questions his mother’s well-intentioned words.

The routine develops naturally over the next few days, waking and showering, joining his mother at her morning visitation, cooking her the one breakfast dish Haru has taught him, napping with restless dreams, then returning to the gravestone alone to spend quiet moments with his departed father. Makoto slips into this pattern easily, not questioning its simplicity until the afternoon he actively chooses to disrupt it. He stands, head bowed, carrying on half of a conversation, when he realizes he has another person to visit. Rin may be lost, or at least lost from Makoto, which makes an apology a near impossible feat. He considers using his phone but realizes an unanswered call would be a setback he is unequipped to handle, and anyway this is a good partial solution, a small but significant step towards a resolution he prays will come. This groveling can happen, and it can happen without any further delay. The rubber band loosens as he strides towards the other side of town, towards Sano. 

Makoto climbs the hill he has been fortunate enough to be brought to in the past, Rin having introduced him to his father years ago. Rin wanted a blessing, swore he could get one if Makoto would just come and meet his dad, talk to him, show him the kind of man with whom Rin has chosen to share his life. Makoto arrives at the gravestone, so similar to the one he just walked away from, something else binding him and Rin together, and bows his head. He places his palm on the cool rock, traces the lines of the Matsuoka name, and falls to his knees, wet regrets running down his face. Makoto has had struggles, doubts, fears, but he has never before felt like a failure. 

“Forgive me.” His words are whipped away by the wind, guilt not so easily displaced. He vows to return the following afternoon, and feels the rubber band ease a little further, his heart beating a little more freely.

This new facet of the routine calms Makoto more each afternoon he climbs to the top of the hill, a place where Rin’s father is honored, where those who love him come to remember him. Makoto has been in Iwatobi for more than a week, missing Rin, always missing Rin, but getting back his sense of self, his perspective, his ability to smile honestly. If his afternoon conversations mean anything at all, he has faith it is only a matter of time before he finds Rin, before Rin allows himself to be found. 

One night, not too many days later, Makoto can’t sleep. Something is at the edge of his mind, but he can’t bring it into focus, it’s an itch he cannot scratch, and which is keeping him awake. The only answer that seems reasonable at this late hour is to talk it through with Rin’s father, a comforting presence Makoto clings to in the solitude at the top of the hill. He releases more of his turmoil, bares his soul, feels the mercy granted to him, and lets it wash over him. 

The gravel on the path crunches, and Makoto whips his head around at the sound, used to nothing more than deafening silence surrounding his private meetings with Rin’s father. His eyes lock on confused red ones, conflicting emotions battling for top billing on an expressive face he hasn’t seen in the flesh for far too long. Thin eyebrows draw together in distress, lips pinch into a thin painful line, and misery takes center stage, before Rin hisses out a short noise of disbelief. Makoto stares. He takes a step forward, reaches out a hand. Rin runs. 

Rin rapidly disappears down the hill, Makoto feels the rubber band tighten again, more painful than before because now he has been reminded of what it is like to have an unbound heart, one open enough to allow love and light back in. His shoulders sag in defeat, he turns to gaze out at the ocean, pretends he is not alone. He can almost imagine Haru is beside him, watching the water before focusing in on Makoto, quietly asking him if he knows what he is doing, advising him to go to Rin, blue eyes always capable of dissecting the inner workings of his mind. Behind Haru is Sousuke, questioning Makoto’s sanity, explaining with exaggerated patience and sharp bluntness that Rin loves him, so why the fuck is he still standing on this hill. He doesn’t know who tells him to stop pushing Rin away, it might be his own voice of reason finally waking up and shaking Makoto into action, it might be Rin’s father giving the best parental advice he can from his position. But hasn’t he already pushed Rin away? He loves Rin, Rin has loved him in the past, does he still? Rin has said he’d never leave, but what if Makoto has pushed him too far, forced him across a divide so wide it’s not able to be crossed. But Makoto wants Rin, needs Rin; Sousuke is right, what the fuck is he doing? It’s not Rin’s job to bridge the gap, that duty falls solely on Makoto until they are reunited on the same side, only then can they work together to repair all that has been damaged. Makoto wants, _needs_ , to get to Rin before he’s completely out of reach. 

Makoto makes it down the hill at breakneck speed, and sprints the remaining distance to the Matsuoka family home, not wanting to waste any more of the precious time he’s already carelessly thrown away. What he sees on the front steps brings him to a sudden halt, and reminds him sharply, painfully, of a younger Rin struggling to stay afloat in his own storm of failure and shame, but somehow this is worse. This is what heartbreak looks like. Even if they were hovering together on some cliff somewhere over the past year, confidence in each other more tenuous than either thought, at some point in his grief-riddled haze Makoto had walked right up and shoved Rin off the edge, away from himself, when he could have, _should have_ , gently encouraged them both to step back, a plummet avoidable if they could have remained emotionally united.

It’s late, and he knows Rin valiantly muffles the soul-weary sobs that rock through his body, collapsed against the stairs like he couldn’t bring himself to walk another step carrying the sorrow that weighs him down. Makoto does not care if it’s no longer his place to comfort Rin, that’s the only thing he thinks to do. He can’t handle seeing Rin like this, he’s too bright to radiate nothing but darkness, too strong to be defeated by despair. Makoto sinks down next to Rin and holds him, letting him weep the pain out, hoping to breathe something lighter into Rin before anguish refills him. Gradually, the tears slow, then cease, and Rin finds the strength to pull his head back from where it had rested on Makoto’s chest, gazing vacantly past him towards his mother’s door.

Makoto breaks the silence with a whisper. “Tell me what to do.”

“No.” Rin’s voice is thick, but Makoto had no idea how much he missed the sound of it until he hears it, the familiar tone caressing his ears.

“Please.”

“No,” insists Rin. “I can’t.”

“Rin.” He is not above begging, he’ll get down on his knees if that’s what Rin wants or needs.

“I’m in love with you but I can’t do this Makoto, I _can’t_. I can’t be completely shut out from you. You promised me, you _promised_.” Rin hunches over, fist bunched tightly in his shirt, desperately pulling, as though he yearns to yank the throbbing, bleeding heart out of his chest to ease the pain that is lodged there. He sounds like he’s already given up and Makoto struggles to breathe.

“Rin, I-”

“When your cat died, and you smiled about it and kept telling me you were fine, and kept asking if I was okay, you promised me you wouldn’t do that again, that you wouldn’t keep me at arm's length. You promised. Then when you lost that first teaching job that you loved, and you did it again, I made you promise me _again_ and you did. I know you’re hurting, you’re allowed to hurt, fuck, I’m _still_ hurting and I lost my dad over two decades ago.”

Makoto aches for Rin’s father to be alive more than he ever has before. “I’m sorry Rin, I’m so sorry.”

Rin finally raises his eyes, and Makoto sees that the red is duller, notices how empty they look, devoid of all their sparkle, the sheen of leftover tears not enough to brighten them. “Not as sorry as I am. I don’t know that loving you is enough for me to keep doing this every time something really huge and horrible happens. I need you Makoto, _I need you_ , but if you don’t need me or can’t rely on me when it really fucking counts, I don’t know where that leaves us. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Rin, I promise-”

Rin clenches his fists, showing a little life, which brings a relief Makoto did not know he needed. “No _don’t_. Don’t promise. Don’t promise me anything.”

Makoto is frantic to fan this spark into a blaze. “Rin. What can I do then?” 

“Just fucking let me in. Let me _in_. I want all of it, all of you. You’re so good, so _good_ , Makoto, and so beautiful where it counts, where it matters. But I need the ugly parts too. You have to give those to me, where I can hold them for you when they get too heavy and too sad. Let me hold you up when you can’t fucking stand for another second because it’s just too fucking shitty to stay standing by yourself. I’ll hold you up until you can get back up on your own again. And because you’re so strong and so brave and so fucking brilliant, you’ll be standing again in no time, finding a way to carry everything that needs to be carried. You aren’t alone when you’re with me, not if you don’t want to be. If you want to be alone, then just-” Rin chokes on the words, slamming a fist on his own chest, asking questions for which he doesn’t really want an answer. “Just tell me, Makoto, _tell me_.”

Rin hands all the power to Makoto, which he doesn’t know if he deserves or wants. He knows he hurt Rin badly, he’s ashamed of not even remembering how poorly he treated him, and somehow it is Rin who finds a way to gracefully give Makoto a chance to make it right. Rin promises to always be on his side and return to the home he’s made in Makoto, Makoto promises honesty and that he won’t ever let Rin down; there are so many shards of broken promises surrounding them both, he understands why they are both in pain. Makoto wants to pick up the jagged pieces and see if any of them fit back together, if he can make them fit. Maybe there will be cracks and imperfections where there was once what appeared to be a smooth, flawless surface, but at least it will be mended. Perhaps there is a certain beauty in what is broken, a reminder that nothing, no matter how ugly and snarled it gets, is irreparable or hopeless.

Rin stares at the ground, chin tucked against his chest. Makoto reaches up, gently pushes a lock of Rin’s hair off his face, and tucks it behind an ear. He hopes it isn’t the last time he is allowed such a moment of intimacy. If he tells the whole truth now, opens himself up to Rin like he should have from the beginning, maybe they still have a chance. _He needs another chance._ “I want him back. I miss him. I’m a grown man and I miss my dad so much it hurts when I breathe. I thought it would get better but nothing has gotten better. It hurts just as much today as it hurt yesterday and the day before and the day before that.”

Makoto hears an intake of breath, thinks Rin holds it while waiting for him to continue. He feels long, warm fingers wrap around his hands. “I want him back so bad I think I see him when I wake up in the morning, and for a second, just a second, I’m so happy to see him, and then I realize it’s all fake and he’s not there and he’s _dead_ , and it’s like I have to bury him all over again.” 

Rin finally lifts his head, locks eyes with Makoto. 

Rin hears him, has always heard him, has always cared about his thoughts and why he thinks them. Makoto is furious that grief allowed him to forget those things, warping his perception of characteristics that he has never doubted. “How can I show you all that when I don’t even want to see it myself? If I don’t keep bearing this on my own, if I open up even a crack, I’m gonna break completely, and there’ll be nothing left of me, nothing left for you.”

“You’ll still be everything to me,” states Rin with no hesitation. When Rin makes declarations, like anything is possible, Makoto wants to believe him, wants to allow Rin’s confidence to buoy his own.

Hot shame floods his face. “I’ve been...really bad to you the last couple months. Why are you still so willing to be here for me?”

“You have. But dealing with death can do weird things to a person, believe me, if anyone understands that Makoto, it’s me.”

“No Rin.”

“Yes Makoto,” argues Rin. “And how can you ask me that? Would you abandon me when I’m struggling just because I acted like an asshole? Oh wait, I can answer that because I’ve already been an asshole and you didn’t abandon me, and we weren’t even committed in any way back then as anything more than childhood friends.”

Rin mutes the sass and sobers quickly, pulling his eyes away to look back at his mother’s door. “Actually, I acted like an asshole when I packed up all my stuff from our home, when we were already long past childhood friends. You didn’t deserve that. I was trying to give you space, waiting for you to reach out when you were ready, but you clearly were having issues. I didn’t even attempt to make it look like I was coming back. That wasn’t on purpose, and I didn’t think about it like that, until Sousuke told me you thought I’d left you for good, then I didn’t know how to contact you and so I kept acting like an idiot. I’ve promised you in the past I’m never leaving and I never planned to and I’m ashamed of myself for letting this get so out of hand. I’m so sorry for going when you told me to leave, for thinking you needed space, I should have been there the entire time. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t deserve you,” whispers Makoto. 

Rin nods his head, grip on Makoto’s hands tightening, his ever-present heart rubber band loosening with each word of conviction that comes out of his partner’s mouth, until it’s barely noticeable within him any longer. “Yes, you do. And I deserve you. We aren’t perfect but we’re perfect for each other. We just still have things to work on. We’re talking about things we probably should have talked about ages ago, things we’ve let slide. If I’m still who you want, we’ll come back from this better than ever, Makoto, I truly believe we will.”

Makoto bows his head, eyes tingling with emotion, “Rin, please stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” promises Rin. “I’m not. I don’t blame you for doubting me and I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”

Makoto shakes his head. “No Rin, I’m serious.” He maneuvers his grip so he can hold Rin’s hands as well, entwining their fingers. Crimson eyes focus on him fervently, eyebrows up in curiosity. His heart pounds and his palms grow damp, his throat closes around the words he desperately wants to say in this moment. “Will you...” He can’t, he’s too raw, nerves clamp his mouth shut.

“Makoto?” Rin prompts, urging him to continue, eyes searching his face. 

He lowers his head to swallow his shoddy courage and bury it under easier words to communicate. “Will you stay with me tonight?” Though not what he longs to ask Rin, the real question burning inside him with an intensity he’s never quite felt before, he doesn’t know how to give those very important words a voice. 

“Of course.” Rin breathes out, pressing his forehead against Makoto’s, content to simply be together for a moment, before murmuring the inquiry he’s voiced in various ways over their years together. “What if I said I was ready to step back from swimming, slow down, and just be Rin from now on? What do you think?”

Maybe it’s the uninhibited honesty between them in this moment, or simply the result of painfully flayed open emotions, but Makoto finally hears what Rin has truly been asking all along. It could not be clearer; Rin needs to know that what he does isn’t what defines him as a person, at least not to his partner, and he needs this affirmation before they can possibly move forward. This truth is simple and easy to share; Makoto lifts his head and opens his eyes. “Look at me. You’ve always been Rin to me. I am so very proud of you no matter how much or little you swim. I’ve always felt that way. You’ve accomplished everything you set out to do, which is amazing, but what I admire and love most about you has nothing to do with your medals or records. You are more than a swimmer Rin, you always have been, to everyone who loves you, definitely and always to me. As for slowing down, I miss you when you’re gone, I really really miss you. But I’ve always been honest when I say your career is your choice. Whether you’re physically next to me or half a world away, I just need to know you’re with me. Stay with me, Rin. Please. Always stay with me.”

 

**

 

_They are completely tangled up in each other, Rin feels every inch of their skin touching. It’s summer outside, but there’s a greater heat in their bed generated from their joined bodies, and it envelopes them in a passionate cloud. They aren’t celebrating anything beyond Rin’s return from competition, being back together after another week spent apart. It hadn’t been a proposal, not really, they’re just a couple of cheap rings he found on a lark, but Makoto seems to appreciate them anyway._

_“They’re like, half rings. If I was really proposing I’d get something brighter and shinier. These are just placeholders for the real thing someday.” Rin keeps trying to explain, but Makoto simply hovers above him and laughs, eyes hazy yet twinkling._

_“Brighter and shinier like you?” Makoto asks, hips ceasing their rhythm momentarily to voice his question._

_Rin’s eyes flutter closed as Makoto resumes activity and locates the spot that can get him to stop arguing and allow Makoto the last word. “Mhmm.”_

_“Nnn, half rings eh? Well then, I’m, ahhhh, going to consider us half engaged.” Somehow Makoto manages to gasp out his quip before tilting his head down to rest his damp forehead against Rin’s._

_Rin huffs out a chuckle. “I missed you.”_

_“Not more than I missed you,” whispers Makoto, breathing the words into his mouth, filling Rin in another way while they move together._

_Rin glides his hands across Makoto’s broad, chiseled back, and trails them up to his shoulders where he stops to appreciate the bunching muscles that tighten with every thrust. He slowly runs his fingers down strong arms, until he locates Makoto’s hands, one on each side of Rin’s head. He slips his hands underneath, their palms molding together seamlessly, and laces their fingers. He holds on as tightly as he can._

_“I love you, Makoto.” He pours everything he has into this moment, wanting to fill Makoto to the brim with all the same unvoiced adoration and support and belief that is always given to Rin without hesitation or doubt. Makoto is his home and he is Makoto’s._

_Makoto lifts his head, all traces of laughter gone, and an intense green gaze fills Rin’s vision, one that never fails to make his heart swell to a size so large he’s astounded that his chest can contain it. This look strips him to his core, bares him more effectively than any other activity they partake in. “Not more than I love you, Rin.”_

 

**

 

Makoto lays in his childhood bed, not tired enough to sleep, simply content to be with Rin. If they stay up all night doing nothing it will be enough. He feels the head under his chin shift slightly and a long arm around his torso pull him in impossibly tighter. 

“Rin, are you going to try and qualify for the Tokyo Games?” Makoto feels timid, like their ceasefire is the fresh baby pink skin after the scab has finally fallen off, easily burned and damaged but still healed. “Or are you just going to be done?”

Rin blows a slow, deep sigh against Makoto’s chest, and readjusts his head so he’s propped up and can look at Makoto when he answers. “I think I’d like to do what Haru’s doing, kind of half speed training until 2020, but I don’t know if I’m good enough to pull that off. Not like Haru. But I think yes, I want to try, I mean, it’d be a real honor to swim at home in the Olympics. To be completely honest though, I don’t know if I’m capable of doing something halfway.”

“I think you can do anything you set your mind to,” counters Makoto. “It’s one of the things we all love about you. You’re fire and passion and commitment, and I can’t recall a time I’ve seen you give anything less than one hundred percent."”

“I’ll still give everything when I’m in the water, I just don’t think swimming gets to have everything _out_ of the water anymore. I’ve got more in me to give than my butterfly stroke and the ability to efficiently pack a carry-on. I’ve got more to give us, more to give you. You deserve more, you deserve everything.” Rin grabs for Makoto’s hands and clutches them fervently. “I’m ready for what’s next, no regrets.”

Makoto heaves a deep breath, but it’s not weary or strained, instead it’s hopeful and so stunningly simple. “I want us to be next. Marry me, Rin. Not because I’m scared to lose you, or because of the fragility of life or anything, or because I want to try to fill some void that retiring from swimming is going to leave in you, I know you’ve got plans for what you want to do with your career. But, well, I don’t want to waste another second being stupid. I was scared to tell you in college because long-distance is so hard but that was just an excuse I think for me. My whole life people have let me make excuses for avoiding things, but never you. You always call me out and encourage me and notice me and care, you care so much. You’ve always cared about me.”

“Makoto,” breathes Rin. No one else speaks his name with such reverence, makes it sound like a prayer. The rubber band finally snaps; Makoto feels his heart pounding as it expands to its rightful size, he is sure its furious rhythm is audible to Rin’s ears.

“You have such a big heart. And you’re so bright and so loving and you sparkle, you _sparkle_ , Rin. We’re so good together, and I love you so much, and I want to be on your team forever. I want us.” Makoto softly laughs, a little self-consciously, though the easy sound is a relief to his own ears. “I’m not even prepared, I don’t have anything to give you, I should have a ring, but I just got this feeling, just now, of this being right, knowing that us being together forever is right.”

Rin sits up, rubbing briefly at his eyes while he smiles. He slips off the bed and pads over to his luggage, where he rummages around in the side pocket before emerging with a familiar small black velvet bag. “I still have the half rings from Budapest. Do you remember? I’ve carried them everywhere in my duffel over the last couple months because, well, I think I just didn’t want to take them out. You know, if you want something to go with your question until we can get something nicer.”

“Of course I remember the half rings, Rin. Can they be our rings forever? I don’t want anything different than these.” Makoto reaches for the pouch, pouring the jewelry out into his palm. He can’t imagine a universe in which he’d want something other than what Rin gives him. 

Rin’s eyes go wide in surprise and delight, while he collapses back on the bed next to Makoto. “Really? But they’re just simple gold bands.”

“You picked them out and they’re perfect. I don’t want anything else,” confirms Makoto. 

Rin beams so brightly he glows, but his shine never blinds Makoto; it surrounds him, fills him, warms him from the inside out. “Should we put them on?”

Makoto raises his eyebrows. “But you haven’t answered yet.”

Rin bursts out in loud, unrestrained laughter, before clapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, body twisting so he faces Makoto. “Oh I’ve missed cheeky Makoto! Yes, I’ll marry you. You’re kind and brave and generous and smart and so fucking gorgeous and I don’t know how I convinced you to love me but somehow you do. You make me believe that home can be a person. You have always supported me, given me something to return to, and made me feel like I’m good enough exactly as I am, and gods I want to do that for you too because you are always good enough. Always. I choose you now and I will choose you every day I have left on this earth. Shit, if I didn’t think my mother and Gou would kill me, I’d marry you right now.”

Makoto stares at Rin, feeling an overwhelming longing for him that is ridiculous when he’s right beside him. He wants to hear him, feel him, breathe his air, he wants everything, and he doesn’t want to lose any more moments.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted,” apologizes Rin sincerely, although he can’t keep the grin from spreading across his face. “I missed you, you know.”

Makoto smiles fully at the return of their familiar routine, echoes of words exchanged between them dozens of times bringing a comfort and security he hadn’t even realized he was missing. “Not more than I missed you.” 

Falling so naturally back into their easy rhythm sends a jolt of affectionate heat through Makoto’s body. He wants Rin, he’s never not wanted him, and right now he needs him with an urgency he hasn’t felt in years. He leans in towards Rin, places one hand softly on his shoulder and the other firmly on his waist. He presses his mouth against soft lips. Rin pushes back, deepening the kiss, both men communicating their lingering apologies without any words. Strong, sure hands grip Makoto’s hips, sliding him in closer until their chests are flush together. Makoto can feel Rin’s rapid pulse, sure his own matches beat for beat. 

Rin pulls back to suck in a breath of air. He looks impossibly happy, except that it’s very possible, and is exactly how it should be. “I love you, Makoto.”

“Not more than I love you, Rin.”

 

**

 

_“Welcome home,” murmurs Makoto as Rin joins him at the altar, reaching out to hold both of Rin’s hands, which are only slightly trembling. He’s not nervous, he’s never been more sure of anything in his life._

_“I’m home, Makoto. I’m with you, aren’t I?” He knows it sounds lame and too sweet but he’s allowed to be overly romantic today, he’s earned it, they’ve earned it._

_A finger jabs into Rin’s side and a deep voice rumbles quietly in his ear. “Is that the best you’ve got? Tachibana deserves better quality pick-up lines from you today of all days.”_

_“Tch, it’s not a pick-up line if I’m using it on our wedding day,” argues Rin lightly, muttering over his shoulder at Sousuke. “Makoto is thoroughly picked up.” He watches Haru place his arm on Makoto’s shoulder and lean past him, forcing himself into Rin’s space._

_“Sousuke, let Rin embarrass himself. It’ll give you better material for your speech later.” Haru deadpans, but Rin can see the shine in his eyes, a reflection of the immense relief he feels, they all feel, at arriving at this moment. There were far too many months during which Rin thought this life event was an impossibility, a moment that would live only in his most persistent dreams, unreachable after having slipped through his grasp._

_Makoto squeaks out a sound that is unbecoming of a man about to swear before deities and witnesses that he has the heart and mind to love and cherish another for a lifetime, an eternity, forever. “Haru, isn’t only one of you supposed to roast us?”_

_“Yeah,” agrees Rin under his breath, wondering if best friends are the sanest or safest choice for best men. “One of you needs to actually pretend to be nice to us for one day. Wait, Haru, you just implied you’re the one giving the pretty and poetic speech about us. Are you? Does that mean you’ll actually say something in front of a crowd of people?”_

_Haru shoots a subtle wink at Rin and gives Sousuke’s hand a gentle squeeze, before sliding back to his spot beside Makoto, a slight smile on his face. Sousuke claps Makoto on the shoulder, and softly hip-checks Rin with a smirk, once he’s back by his side._

_Rin gazes down at his hands, which have remained joined together with Makoto’s throughout the teasing and jostling, while a small gathering of people patiently wait for the hubbub amongst the four of them to ebb and the ceremony to commence. Where there was once doubt, lies nothing but surety and peace of mind. He and Makoto burned themselves down to the ground, but with patience and communication and trust have rebuilt themselves to a place where they flourish and thrive. They have created a home within each other, Makoto spreads his warmth, Rin shines his light._

_He blinks back inevitable tears, there will be no stopping their flow today. “You know, before I walked down that aisle just now, I missed you, Makoto.”_

_Makoto beams at him, eyes glimmering with a promise, a vow just for Rin. “Not more than I missed you."_

_Rin isn’t fool enough to assume that life will be a perpetually smooth journey from here on out. He understands on a fundamental level that they need to actively choose each other, every day, working together to strengthen their bond and fulfill their promises. Though there have been stumbles and missteps, there has always been adoration and commitment; today celebrates that nothing, no matter how dark, has yet been their undoing, that they are stronger united than they are divided, that they pledge to walk their path together._

_Rin tugs his almost-husband towards him, nestles his cheek against Makoto’s, and tilts his chin up to whisper in his ear. “I love you.”_

_Makoto turns his head to press a kiss into Rin’s hair, before murmuring his reply back to the man by his side and on his side. “Not more than I love you.”_

 

**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: This is based on real events/situations in the lives of two friends of mine. I am so appreciative to both of them for giving me permission to interpret and share their story here, from the fun to the fights to the resolutions.
> 
> (Not-so) fun fact 2: The stealth moving out really happened.
> 
> Fun fact 3: “I need you to unfuck what you've fucked" is a direct quote from my irl Sousuke inspiration.
> 
> Karaoke songs: Rin's is [Let Me Love You by DJ Snake/Justin Beiber](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euCqAq6BRa4), Makoto's (unfortunate/brutally honest/guilt-inducing choice) is [Hey Ho by The Lumineers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvCBSSwgtg4), Sousuke-Makoto's duet is [Numb/Encore by Jay-Z and Linkin Park](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JcOwJh4F40M).
> 
> The irl Mkt & Rin are also happily married and currently living in fluffy domestic bliss.


End file.
